


In the Garden of Earthly Delights

by ariadnes_string



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-06
Updated: 2014-02-06
Packaged: 2018-01-11 10:03:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1171762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariadnes_string/pseuds/ariadnes_string
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carolyn and Herc discuss an important matter.  Well, Herc thinks it's important, at any rate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Garden of Earthly Delights

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle XV: The Ides of Porn. The prompt was: convincing.  
> Thank you to thirdbird for the read-through!

“Oh Herc, must we talk about this now?”

“Why not now? We’re warm, we’re comfortable—I like these new sheets, by the way—and we’re close enough to—“

“Yes, yes, all right, that’s enough of that. No, really, Herc, budge up, I can barely breathe. Why can’t you be like every other man on the planet and just roll over and go to sleep? Goodness knows I’d like to.”

“Because, Carolyn, I want to talk about this. You see, it’s, well, it’s important to me, because—”

“Oh no, let’s not start that again.”

“Why not? When a man is lying in bed, with a beautiful woman in his arms, basking in the afterglow of quite a satisfying bout of lovemaking, his mind naturally turns to—“

“Right. You’ve spoiled the mood now. I’ll never be able to get to sleep. Go on then: what did you want to ask me about our—our, erm, activities?”

“Simply this: Carolyn, we’ve been seeing each other for some time now, and I think it’s not too presumptuous to assume that you enjoy our, well, our more intimate moments almost as much as I do.”

“They are not entirely unpleasant.”

“Not entirely unpleasant to the tune of three to four times a week. Sometimes twice on a Sunday.”

“Yes, yes, you’ve made your point.”

“And on one memorable Bank Holiday weekend—“

“We agreed never to speak of that.”

“And yet, for all that, I’m still not sure whether I, well, whether I please you.”

“Don’t be stupid. Of course you please me. How can I deny the evidence you have so skillfully laid out?”

“No. What I mean is: Do I bring you to the ultimate heights? Do your petals unfurl for me? Carolyn, do you die the little death?”

“Oh good Lord, I’m trapped in one of those aeroport bookshop novels with a girl on the cover who can’t manage to do up her brassiere.”

“I’m serious, Carolyn. Do you experience climax?”

“Ugh, Herc, stop! Why do you want to know, anyway? Is making my toes curl or what have you another notch on your belt of masculine prowess? Something to boast about with the boys down the pilots’ lounge?”

“I would never—“

“Just because everyone can tell when you—when you—do that thing you want to know about.”

“Can I help that's I'm expressive?”

“Expressive—yes, I suppose that’s one way of putting it. I never knew a man could hit that number of high notes in succession. You do realize there’re only so many times Arthur will believe you were playing me your new Puccini CDs. At midnight.”

“Well, that’s quite a large number of times, really. It is Arthur we’re talking about.”

“But a lady—this is what I’m trying to tell you—a lady is sometimes a bit more reserved about such things—a bit more private.”

“Not always. My third wife—“

“Hercules Shipwright, there are times when it is appropriate for a man to discuss his veritable panoply of ex-wives with his current female companion, and—No, wait, I’m wrong. There are no times when that is appropriate. And your third wife was no lady.”

“Point taken. But Carolyn, feminine good manners aside, is what you’re saying that you do—that you _do_ experience _that_?”

“I’m not saying I don’t.”

“Oh, Carolyn!”

“But if I do—and I’m not saying I _do_ do—I am certainly not going to make a lot of noise about it, or use any of those silly phrases you’ve gleaned off the internet. Plus, I’m not sure it’s any of your business.”

“Not my business? But surely it’s the result of the things we do together, with our hands, and our mouths and our—“

“Really, Herc, there’s a limit to how much credit even you can take for what is an almost entirely involuntary muscle spasm.” 

“Be that as it may, you have still made me very happy.”

“Yes, all right, you can stop nuzzling me now; it’s like being in bed with a badly trained Newfoundland. It’s just—well, life would be so much easier if there were a simple term for it.”

“But there are simple terms for it, like or—“

“A term that didn’t make you sound like either a free love advocate from the 1950s or a do-it-yourself porno. Something like, I don’t know, hyacinth.”

“Hyacinth?”

“Yes, why not? I liked hyacinths very much when I was young.”

“I didn’t know I was dating Charles Foster Kane.”

“Who?”

“Never mind. Hyacinths it is.”

“Good. Then we can finally get some sleep. Herc? What are you doing? Oh, no. Come back up here where I can see you. Stop that at once….I….Oh.”

“murffleslurmifflelur?”

“No, don’t stop. Did I say stop? Don't you dare. A bit more…yes, that's it.”

“….”

“….”

“Carolyn Knapp-Shappey”

“Yes?”

“How grows your garden?”

“Well, since you ask: the hyacinths are particularly lovely this year.”


End file.
